Burn
by Devilzzz
Summary: I am going to kill the person I love.
1. Default Chapter

Burn  
  
  
  
The cold wind sweeped across the city, the ripples of rain splattering on the ground. Need there be much people, for the thunderstorm was awakening once again, lightning growing more thunderous than ever, it's sound booming.  
  
Eighteen year old Hermione Granger watched from the window as this happend, keeping the window a bit open so she could put her hand out and feel the raindrops drown in her hands.  
  
"'Mione, stop being foolish, and close that damn window."  
  
That began the mercy, the pain, and the death of the Wizarding World.  
  
She sighed and obeyed, turning around. Her best friend, Ronald Weasley, watched her as she collapsed in her bed, folding her arms across her chest.  
  
He sat at the corner of her bed, running his fingers through his hair.  
  
"Mione? Are you okay? Should I call the docter?" asked Ron worriedly. His hand was running through his hair in panic. He knew everything was not okay. After Voldemort had risen, Harry Potter and his loyal supporters were in hiding, protecting all muggleborn witches nearby. Hermione was one of their target victims, as she was a mudblood, not to mention, one of Harry's most prized treasures.  
  
"No, Ron. No need. It's the Imperius Curse. I can't seem to fight it anymore..." she croaked, clenching her fists as she bit her lip worriedly. Her voice came out cold, hard, and weak. Her knees swung foward and hit the base of the bed, making her shriek with pain.  
  
"You have to be strong, Hermione. Harry's gone to Bethesda, the small village in London, to get the potion from Severus. He'll be back tomorrow. Just fight it, until then, please, for me?" Ron looked like a cross between hopeful and determince. It made Hermione sick to her stomach, she was about to faint, and he was telling her to be strong. Son of a bitch, she thought bitterly. The curse was already getting to her, and she knew the few seconds she had left to spare, it would be the last precious moments she would ever be herself ever again.  
  
Hermione grinded her teeth, the stinging pain that was surrounding her body hurt so badly that she bit her lip so hard it seeped with blood. Her lungs were breaking slowly within her, she could feel it. Her whole body was shaking, and her teeth were immensely clattering in the cold.  
  
"I can't fight it anymore!" she screamed, her hands pushing Ron away, who fell to the floor in shock.  
  
"Damn you! Can't you understand the kind of pain I am in? What the hell is wrong with you! I am not fighting it, Ron, I am not godamn Harry Potter, okay?"  
  
Ron backed away, his eyes bloating with fear.  
  
Hermione was looking simply horrid, her hair thrown about her face, her face red with anger, and her arms clenched to the side.  
  
"I am sorry, Ron. I love you, so much, your like a brother to me. But if you refuse to kill me yourself, and save myself the misery, then I am so sorry." Her voice was full of warning, praise, and hopelessness. Vurnability grounding against her words.  
  
Those were the last words spoken, before Hermione picked up her wand and acidily pointed at him. Her arm was shaking with nervousness, her heart beating against the brim of her chest, and terror bloating her eyes.  
  
"Hermione, don't do this," Ron pleaded.  
  
Hermione's eyes welled with tears. Pain was surfacing, hardening, pressuring her to continue, as her best friend was on the floor, begging for mercy.  
  
"Avada Kedrava!"  
  
There was a beam of green light striking from the wand, and he lay, emotionless, dead.  
  
Hermione sighed as she felt the pain going away slowly. At least for now.  
  
The cold wind sweeped across the city, the ripples of rain splattering on the ground. Need there be much people, for the thunderstorm was awakening once again, lightning growing more thunderous than ever, it's sound booming.  
  
Eighteen year old Hermione Granger watched from the window as this happend, keeping the window a bit open so she could put her hand out and feel the raindrops drown in her hands.  
  
"'Mione, stop being foolish, and close that damn window."  
  
That began the mercy, the pain, and the death of the Wizarding World. 


	2. Chapter Two

Burn  
  
It started with a rainstorm, and it always ended with a rainstorm. "Rebecca Walkins", twenty-six years old and fresh from graduation from Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. She had made it so far in her life, made her parents proud, and her name was well known in the Ministry for being one of the most faithful and good serving Aurors since Alastor Moody.  
  
She was a mere half muggle born, but the power she had in her witch blood had made it so often to forget. She had gotten the witch blood from her great grandmother, her parents were both muggles. Rebecca was walking among several sidewalks of the muggle town, and stopped near a streetlight nearby. She checked the sign: 1546 Bethesda RD.  
  
This was it. The portkey. Raindrops were now splattering on Rebecca's emerald robes, but she clutched herself with her arms and shivered, knowing that in moments, she would have other worries to come. It was getting quite cold, and Rebecca looked around, admiring the suitable umbrellas that muggles carried as they hurried to their apartment buildings. Muggles looked at her rather swiftly as they passed by, eyeing her strange robes.  
  
Rebecca shifted awkwardly. I knew I shouldn't have worn this, she thought uneasily. Becca was not very strict about muggle security, as she was raised in their own enviroment and felt very comfortable with them. But being an Auror for the last five years, she now felt stupid, knowing she should have disguised herself as a muggle.  
  
Especially now. Especially since the rise of Voldemort. Rebecca shuddered, and unwilling tears began to form into her eyes. Memories flooded back into her brain.  
  
-  
  
"Becky!"  
  
"Rebecca!"  
  
"Mum, please, please be calm. Dad, take the silverware away. You guys need to leave. Right now, I mean it." Her voice was hurried, and her ability to be calm in all situations grew weary.  
  
"Rebecca, who are those men?" asked her mother nervously, pointing at the several cloaked figures that stood before them, pointing at them with wands.  
  
"Please, Mum, get out of here!" Rebecca screamed.  
  
"Sweet Becky, your father's calling," a cold voice arupted her thoughts. Rebecca swung around and whimpered, looking at the man. He was wearing a long bundle of silver plaited cloaks, and a small smile was crawling his lips.  
  
"How could you?" she gasped, her hand pulling tightly on her brown curls. Her control was getting away, slipping away slowly. She looked around the room and her hands, but there was no wand. No wand nearby, to save her own family.  
  
"Dear Becky, did you really think I loved you?" the man chuckled. Rebecca shook her head, her eyes wide.  
  
"Of course I didn't. I was a Ravenclaw, didn't you know? But that didn't stop me from being a complete dumbass and falling in love with you, now did it?" Becca was now clutching the ends of her robes, sweat falling omoniously on her forehead.  
  
"You're just a mudblood, you know that, don't you, sweet Becky? The cleverest one I've met ... well, actually, I think I know a girl much more clever than you, but she was a silly little mudblood too."  
  
"You - you evil little son of a bitch!"  
  
"Now, let's do this the muggle way. Kill them, Nott and Blaster!" His voice deepened as two cloaked men grabbed kitchen knives.  
  
"Isn't going to be fun, Rebecca, watching your father die? Your mudblood mother? Shame really. But the dark lord's orders always come first," he cackled.  
  
"No!" Rebecca objected, trying to stand still. She looked away, and whimpered once more as she heard her mother's scream. Her father was speaking to her, but she did not hear as he yelled out also. Soon, she heard a clank of two bodies fall on the kitchen floor, and Rebecca faced the man once more, and she smiled.  
  
"You're going to pay. Someday some girl's going to break your heart. It won't be me, but I swear to God, you'll get what you deserve," she said, shaking her head.  
  
The smile vanished, and she grabbed the kitchen knife from one of the cloaked men.  
  
She held it toward her chest, ready to plunge it into her body. Heartache was surrounding her, and the pain of her parent's screams were still ringing in her ears.  
  
The smirk vanished from the man's face, and he leaped foward as she neared the knife.  
  
"No!"  
  
"Are you kidding me?" she whispered, looking crazed. "Are you kidding me? No? I thought you didn't love me. Well, I am glad you'll get your heart broken a little sooner."  
  
The knife grew closer, inches away from her target. And then suddenly, there was an incantation that she heard him yell, and the world sent her into a twist of colors, and she felt oddly drowsy, and the knife, the shining beautiful knife that could have killed her, was rapidly swinging toward the floor, and landed with a clunk, while the room vanished, and the man looked at her, confused as she began to disappear.  
  
"Goodbye, Draco Malfoy."  
  
-  
  
He had saved her. Draco Malfoy, the most honest, faithful Death Eater had saved her. Before she could kill herself and dawn herself in death, he had saved her. Rebecca Walkins fluttered her eyelashes and checked the muggle watch on her arm. It was time. She reached out and touched the streetlight with one finger, and felt a sudden tug beyond her navel, before she was swirling into a mix of colors.  
  
Soon, she fell on a hard surface that was damp. Blinking her eyes open into vision, she sniffed a sudden copper smell. Disgusted, she brushed the dirt off of her emerald robes, and examined the small cubicle of the room.  
  
"Ms. Walkins?" a voice suddenly said behind her. Rebecca turned around and her face broke into a grin.  
  
"Fredrick Weasley! Well, well, my my, I didn't think I'd see you after graduation!" she said, her grin turning more and more wider as she spoke.  
  
"Becky!" he exclaimed, pulling her into his arms.  
  
"So, how's life treating you? Never thought you'd end up in the Ministry, huh?" she said teasingly.  
  
"And I am still wondering how. Just got married to Angelina a few weeks ago. Shame you didn't come to the wedding, but when I owled your house, I got a reply that you went to Egypt for Auror buisness. Working hard, eh?" he said, a hand running through his organic flaming hair.  
  
"Well you didn't expect anything less while the madman is still out there, did you? No, no, I am keeping my cake and eating it too. So how's Angelina? And, oh George, your adorable brother? I hear he's quite sucessful as a beater in the new Chudley Cannons team? Oh and Ronald? He was such a sweetheart..." She stopped talking as she saw the stricken look on Fred's face.  
  
"Fred? Fred?" she asked.  
  
"Beck, I thought you'd heard the news."  
  
"What news?" she asked, her eyebrows raised. "I haven't heard much news...I've been traveling since Graduation at Hogwarts."  
  
"Ron's dead, Beck..."  
  
The silence was such an awkward one that Rebecca felt as if they were both dead.  
  
"Oh my," she murmured, her eyelids itching. A lump in her throat was forming, and she clutching the end of a nearby table to keep her balance.  
  
"Oh Beck, I shouldn't have said anything I mean your parents - it must be horrible to have memories like that -"  
  
"Ron's dead? But how - why?" Rebecca's voice cracked easily.  
  
"You remember, Hermione Granger? Brainy, brown haired Gryffindor? Golden Girl in the famous trio?" he asked.  
  
Rebecca smiled at the memory of her. She had a faint recall of memory when Hermione had once been second year, and Rebecca was in her fourth year, running after Ryan Devons in the hallway, and the little twelve year old girl had actually scolded at her.  
  
"Of course! Never saw her without Harry Potter and Ronald, did you? Dated the famous Viktor Krum herself when I was in my sixth year! Oh what a classy girl she was -"  
  
"She killed him."  
  
The smile vanished quickly, and was replaced by a sudden gape of Becca's mouth.  
  
"She - she killed him?" Rebecca repeated, as if she had heard wrong.  
  
"Controlled by the Imperius curse," was all Fred retorted.  
  
"That little bitch," Rebecca exclaimed, grinding her teeth.  
  
"Beck, Herm was a muggle born, she was under the curse for so long, but Ron wouldn't kill her to rid of her misery. You don't have an idea what your talking about."  
  
"The hell I don't, Fredrick Weasley! She should've killed herself than! It's what - it's what I would've done," she stammered.  
  
"She tried to, Beck. She did."  
  
There was another fresh silence as Rebecca frowned, avoiding Fred's eyes.  
  
"Why are you here anyway?"  
  
"I need a permit admission to Azkaban," she said with flourish. Fred widened his eyes.  
  
"You kidding me? You're just screwing with me, right?"  
  
"Now, Fred! You have a wife!" Rebecca joked, blinking innocently. Fred chuckled a bit before responding sternly.  
  
"You know what it's like there, Bec. No way am I going to let one of my favorite girls suffer. What the hell you on?"  
  
She rolled her eyes. "Listen, Fred, I've only been there once, and I know what it's like. You have no idea. But I never came home shivering because you know why? I think, that since those bastards participated in muggleborn slaughter, they should suffer. They deserve it. I take pleasure in their misery, their agony."  
  
Her friend's eyes narrowed suspiciously at her. Fred had never seen her act so calm in the subject of her parent's death, nor other muggleborns. This was dangerous. No wonder she wasn't put in Gryffindor, he thought logically. She sure had the brains, but she wasn't all innocent. She knew what it was like to have sweet revenge at the bitter tip of her tongue.  
  
"Anyways, I wanted to interview Thomas, he's the most dangerous death eater out there...it'd be great! Imagine what - what's wrong?" she suddenly interrupted her own speech to glance at her friend, who looked fearful.  
  
"No, Beck. I won't let you. I'm sorry, but I am not going to let you die yourself. He may be non-dangerous because of the dementors, but he's the only one that hasn't died yet in three weeks living there. He has some strength, and I don't want you near him," he said thoughtfully.  
  
Rebecca started to protest when suddenly, a man apparated into the room. She jumped a bit, and looked into the face of Edward Hamilton, one of her auror companions. Instead of his usual nervous, and friendly smile, his face was stern and stricken.  
  
"Hamilton. What is it?" Fred barked at him. Edward glared at him, and then turned to Rebecca.  
  
"Finally. I found you. We need you, Beck. Local witches sighted death eaters near Lonewood. If we get there fast, we can disarm them."  
  
Rebecca didn't need to know. She waved a hasty goodbye to Fred, who looked fearfully again back at her, and then apparated with hurriedly with Edward.  
  
Soon, they appeared to be in a deserted piece of land, but Edward grabbed her hand and took out his wand and placed it behind his back.  
  
"Quick, get your wand out."  
  
She obeyed, and imitated him, extremely nervous. She didn't have much experience locating death eaters, but she took an intake of her breath and stepped forward, her eyes aware and alert.  
  
"CRUCIO!" a croaky voice roared at her side. Before she knew what was happening, she saw Edward falling to the ground, clutching himself in pain.  
  
"Ed!" Rebecca yelled, and turned back to see the culprit. It was a hooded figure, who was struggling hard to apparate. Rebecca quickly disarmed the invader and the hooded figure fell on the ground, struggling to get out of Rebecca's tight embrace.  
  
"Stay still!" she said, pointing her wand to the culprit's neck. She removed the whole cloak from the figure's body, and her eyes instinctively wandered to the right arm, and she caught sight of it...the dark mark.  
  
This was a death eater. She felt a grin creeping to her face, but it vanished quickly when she regonized the familiar face of the death eater.  
  
"Hermione Granger?" 


	3. Chapter Three

Burn  
  
The 24 year old still had the same apple-shaped face. Rebecca hadn't seen her since Hogwarts, but her grinning 7th year graduate picture was still imprinted on her mind ever since Fred had sent pictures of his brothers and their friends. In that picture, Hermione Granger could well be defined as a sweet, brainy, sort of geeky, but courageous spirit that always tried to do the right thing but could always have room for fun adventure. Her brown, bushy hair that had grown rather sleek over the years hung around her shoulders, as she had cut it currently, and her wide brown eyes shimmered with sadness, although her smile was accurate and bright, waiting for the awaiting years that were to welcome her to her future.  
  
She had been dating Ronald Weasley, since her sixth year, but they had given up on their six month relationship when they decided it was far to awkward to be dating a friend, although they were so close they lived in a small apartment building together only miles away from Bethesda. It must've been one year later after that happy spirited picture of Hermione was taken that she had killed her best friend under the control of the same evil that had killed Rebecca's parents.  
  
It was hard to look back at the face again, without seeing the happy joy in her smile and the memories in her eyes. This time, the face that looked back at Rebecca was a sudden sullen one, something old and too hard to regonize. The same features defined her pyhsically of course, but that was all. There were no smile, no twinkles in her eyes that Rebecca could recall.  
  
"You're going to ask questions aren't you? That's why you brought me here in the first place. Everybody wants to ask questions. But they never can handle the answers," said the brown haired former Gryffindor bitterly.  
  
Rebecca took a deep hard breath. "I just have one question."  
  
Hermione looked back at her, narrowing her eyes, and slowly nodding her head for her to continue.  
  
Rebecca Walkins had never felt so guilty in her life. After she had discovered the culprit was Hermione Granger, she had stopped the crucio curse on Edward and put him under a strong memory charm and sent him home by portkey. Now they were sitting on armchairs, chatting awkwardly in her small apartment.  
  
She had never been so disloyal to the ministry before, and it made her weak in the knees. But she needed to do this. She didn't want to kill the death eaters before they died. She wanted to know why, why they ruined lives and couldn't go on with their own, she wanted them to regain some misery and tell her exactly why, before she killed them or sent them to Azkaban. But this was different. A courageous Gryffindor that had killed her best friend, and gotten the dark mark, the same dark mark controlled by the most evil sorceror there lived, who killed her other best friend's parents? It was far too complicated for her to understand, and Rebecca was hesitant to punish her without knowing.  
  
"Why?" she merely asked.  
Hermione glared at her, making Rebecca rejoice slightly.  
  
"Why? Why? Because, because it's better to try living then be a weak son of a bitch and die. I needed to talk to you...that instant that you caught me, I was sure you would capture me and send me off to Azkaban. I was about to runaway, Bec, at the last minute, but when you took me to your house, I have some faith left. I don't want to live this life anymore, and I didn't want to live it from the start. But they forced me...sometimes they have me under the curse so bad, I hardly know who I'm killing...like some kind of powerful source of evil washing over me...they know I'm smart...that's ...that's why they chose me."  
  
There was a long silence before Rebecca broke the ice.  
  
"Why'd you call me Bec? How'd you know..." her voice faded slightly, and she frowned.  
  
Hermione looked down at her feet and murmured, "He has pictures of you, with your name imprinted under it sometimes."  
  
Rebecca gasped. "The Dark Lord? Voldemort?"  
  
Hermione laughed. "No, Malfoy."  
  
Becky's forehead crinkled at the sudden name. "Mal- Dray- Malfoy? Draco Malfoy?"  
  
"Yes. He told me...well all he told me when he caught me looking at them was that he was responsible for the sudden deaths of your parents and that you - you were his girlfriend back then."  
  
"You- you work with him. Where is that mother fucker?" The words came out before Rebecca had time to conceal them, but to her surprise, the death eater across from her laughed.  
  
"I - I can't tell..if I do, I might get in trouble. But I live with him...he and I are partners...he controls me sometimes..." Hermione shuddered.  
  
Rebecca awkwardly patted her shoulder.  
  
"He's still alive," Rebecca said, her words coming out in disbelief. There was a long silence, and several minutes passed by as Hermione watched her, observing.  
  
Finally, Rebecca spoke. "Look, we both need something, Hermione. You need a new life, to start over. And I - I need revenge."  
  
"What do you mean?" she answered slowly.  
  
"It's true. He killed my parents...I can't live without knowing the one responsible is still living, enjoying his life while killing innocent muggleborns and forcing you to do the same. I can turn you in, and I know the Ministry won't give you a trial. But...well, this might come weird from an Auror, but you have to trust me...if you do me a big favor, I'll...I'll get you a new identity..a new life."  
  
"What do I have to do?" Hermione asked, her voice was anxious and excited at the same time.  
  
Rebecca gave her a reassuring smile and said, "You have to destroy Draco."  
  
"What? I can't, Bec, he's far too powerful..."  
  
"Of course not, silly! You need to get into his weakness and make him weary before you hand him over to me."  
  
"Exactly what do you have in mind?" said Hermione reluctantly.  
  
Rebecca paused. "What I'm trying to say..'Mione is that..."  
  
Another pause. Then, she continued to speak.  
  
"I need you to seduce Draco Malfoy." 


	4. Chapter Four

Burn  
  
His prying eyes swept away off her sleeping figure at once. He rubbed his eyes, immensely disturbed that he would ever watch her sleep. She was just a mere servant, a slave, after all. She wasn't a real death eater, she didn't kill for the hell of it. No, she was a pure Gryffindor, with intent morals. Wasn't she? He could've sworn the night that she killed one of the Weasleys that she was not any more innocent than he was.  
  
She was different than at Hogwarts, with more bushy-hair and a hobby to keep talking. Now, she was much more silent, black circles under her eyes, her hair unbrushed and unwavering, and her brown, wide eyes pale. She seemed as if she would fall asleep in their usual meetings, and the only time she made a movement was to get up in the morning to brush her teeth tiredly and shower without concern. He was frustrated, he knew. He wanted to see Hermione Granger at her rough side, the same one that insisted she kill Ronald Weasley.  
  
Of course, that would be to put the Imperius spell on her once more, and he cared not to do that, because that would be more tiring for her. He wanted her to do it by herself, not under control of a stronger force of evil.  
  
"Draco?" a soft voice whispered. He looked up from his thoughts and his heart leaped, racing. It was Hermione, who was blinking, looking toward him in surprise.  
  
"Yes. I - I wanted to make sure you got up in time for the meeting," he barked unintentionally.  
  
"It's four o'clock in the morning," she said, raising an eyebrow.  
  
"Yeah, well, you always get up late," he lied.  
  
"No I don't..." her voice sounded softer, even...nicer? Usually she would not speak to him at all.  
  
"Quit your yapping, Granger, and get up and get dressed. I want to get there early," Draco finally snapped, looking at her expectantly.  
  
"I don't want to. Wake me up later," groaned Hermione, turning over. Draco clenched his fists. Who was she to disobey him?  
  
"No!" he said, tugging at her arm. "You will do as I say," he pulled his wand from his robes and pointed it at her with promise; "Or else."  
  
To his shock, Hermione gave a small laugh. It startled him deeply. She NEVER laughed. In fact, she never showed any emotion at all. To him, at least.  
  
"You don't scare me, Draco. Bossy...I like it," she hissed. Draco gaped in confusion as she shut her eyes and slept, facedown on her pillow.  
  
Bossy? She liked it? What kind of a tone had she said that? Was it possible that she was flirting with him? She must've been sleepy, that's all, he thought to himself reassuringly. No way would Hermione Granger ever flirt with the man that caused her whole life to crumble. No, it was just Granger sleepy-eyed and when we get to the meeting, it would all be forgotten.  
  
-*- He was right. Partly, anyway. At promptly six o'clock, Hermione went to the bathroom, brushed her teeth, showered cleanly and got dressed in thick robes with a hood on, and Draco did the same, and they spoke nothing to each other except small phrases such as 'Hurry the hell up' or 'Did you steal my toothbrush again?' and after exactly thirty minutes, they arrived from Aparation to the meeting.  
  
However, though Hermione was completely oblivious about what had happened and went on to her usual ritual of frowning and looking content throughout the whole meeting, which consisted of Death Eaters suggesting where they should attack next. After about an hour of the meeting, Hermione and Draco apparated home to get rest or eat, because in about three hours, they would be attacking another side of London soon.  
  
While Draco collapsed in his bed, trying hard to to take a small nap, he heard movements from Hermione's side of the room and looked at her. It was unlike her, not to fall asleep, but instead, to be sitting cross-legged on her bed, with a small book in front of her.  
  
"Aren't you going to sleep?" he asked her curiously, annoyed.  
  
She merely gave him a small smile. "No, thank you. I can never get enough sleep, anyway, so I might as well do something useful."  
  
"Reading?" Draco snarled disapprovingly. "What's that you're reading?"  
  
"It's not any of your concern," she replied politely, her voice coming out strangely dead-prone.  
  
At that, Draco's temper flared as he quickly got out of his bed and stalked toward her bed and grabbed it out of her hands. She didn't even protest. There was no look or expression on her face, no reaction of protest. This made him even angrier.  
  
He read the title. Six Steps to Getting the Man of Your Dreams by Cecille Dortans the author of "A Hundred Ways to Get Him to Beg".  
  
"My, my, isn't this interesting?" he sneered, turning to the first page. Hermione blushed slightly, but did not appear to be unphased.  
  
"First step: Get to know him better. Act shy around him and flirt with him a bit, and smile at him. Aww, isn't that sweet?" Draco crooned sarcastically, laughing.  
  
"Give it back, Mal- Draco, we're not in Hogwarts anymore, you know," Hermione said calmly.  
  
"Really? Because I wasn't aware," he said, rolling his eyes. He turned to the next page and read it aloud.  
  
"After you have done that, the second step is to compliment his interests. Playfully touch him in the arm or graze his face if it's optional. Ask things about him, make small talk. Tell him things about you too," he read, his nose scrunching up in disgust. He took a seat next to her, keeping a slight distance, however. He had his hand wrapped around a cup of muggle coffee.  
  
"Can I please have my book back? Or do you want to get the man of YOUR dreams, Draco?" she said, laughing, playfully punching him in the arm.  
  
He glared at her and went back to the book. "Third step: Make the first move...'accidently' touch him somewhere forbidden and see if he has a reaction. Remember to appoligize about this accident afterwards."  
  
"Maybe the boy of your dreams is Voldemort, eh?" Hermione said, giggling. He shot her another glare.  
  
"I don't go that way," he said, his cheeks tinging red.  
  
"You don't? Why are you blushing, Draco? Is it because I am telling the truth, huh?" she asked, raising one eyebrow.  
  
"Stop it!" he roared. "You're giving me a headache."  
  
"Then give me back my damn book!" she replied, trying to grab her book. Draco lost his balance and his hands let go off the coffee, and it spilled over the lower portion of his robes.  
  
"Look what you did, you mudblood!" he yelled, the cup splattering on the floor.  
  
"Sorry," she said, nonchantly. "There, there, calm down, geez, it's a fucking coffee mug, Dra- Malfoy."  
  
As he attempted to clean himself off, his hand gripped tightly over the book.  
  
"I am keeping this," he said. Before she could make another remark, he gave her a death stare.  
  
"No! Okay, fine, lets make a deal. I'll help you clean it off BY HAND, and get you a new coffee mug and then you can keep reading the book, but you have to give it back," she said.  
  
"Fine. But only if you stop making those gay statements," he said.  
  
"Okay," Hermione agreed, although reluctantly. He took his robes off while she got a fresh batch of napkins and a glass of water. She placed them on the floor, and motioned Draco to lower himself.  
  
"God, you have stains all over your pants," she stated, dipping one of the napkins into water and placing them on the thick material of his black pants.  
  
Her napkin wandered around, rinsing the creases of stains in his pants, and her hand 'accidently' grazed against something and she backed off.  
  
"Sorry," she whispered, blushing before she put her materials away and sat on the bed beside him again.  
  
"Fourth step: Make him want you. This is also the first step in seduction. Smear your lips with muggle lip gloss to make them look shiny and irresistable. Lean close toward him every so often," Draco said. He made a disgusted face.  
  
"This is supposed to work?" he said, wondering aloud.  
  
"I guess so," Hermione said, shrugging. "I am just reading it for the hell of it."  
  
"Anyways - fifth step: Kiss him. If he doesn't kiss you first, you should be able to make the first move. It would also lead the male to feel offtrack and more turned on. Choose a silent, intense moment where you know it's alright," he read off.  
  
"Ugh - this would never work, this is a piece of trash," he said finally, not caring to read the sixth, final step.  
  
"You sure about that?" Hermione asked, looking at him suspiciously.  
  
He gulped. "Of course, I am."  
  
She gave him a small, quivering smile, and there was an awkward silence.  
  
"Why shouldn't I be sure?" he asked uncertainly.  
  
Hermione shrugged. "I don't know. It's just," she leaned closer and grazed her fingers against his chin. "If I kissed you, I bet you'd be at least a little turned on."  
  
"Impossible," he whispered, his voice coming out shaky.  
  
She gave him another knowing smile, and leaned in further. "You sure?"  
  
"Yeah - well, not - not really..."  
  
She leaned in forward, so that their lips were inches apart. Her warm breath caressed his lips, and she closed her eyes, their lips connecting at last. 


	5. Chapter Five

__

Burn

He felt an intense motion in the pit of his stomach as the kiss ensued with more frequent heat. Gently, he raised a hand and placed it on her hip, and she pushed against him, causing him to groan and pull away in realization, and drying his lips with the back of his hand in repulsion. What was he doing, kissing a mudblood when he had been taught not to glance at them, spit at the sight of them? His occupation was killing mudbloods and half-bloods! He couldn't ruin himself, his perfect picture of what his father always wanted him to be.

__

My father was the most proud with my dark arts, he told himself convincingly. Being a death eater was what would make his father finally accept him, and he did not want to do anything less. Draco finally gave a false disgusted look at Hermione. Her eyes were turning watery, and her cheeks bright red as he threw at her some well-sounding curses. "I can't believe you did that! Did you think I'd actually _like_ it?"

Of course he did. He knew it at the back of his mind, that his body was acting very abnormal since she had placed her lips on his. He wanted to continue it, he wanted to take her, he just wanted one night, but he shook these thoughts away quickly. Malfoys did not think like this, Malfoys raised their heads up high, they were worth more value than anybody else.

"Well it seemed so!" she finally said, biting her lip vigorously.

"What're you talking about, Granger?" he said, a flush covering his cheeks.

"Oh, please, like I can't notice you were turned on when you practically pulled me against you! Pressing against you!" 

"I am a male, Granger, naturally I act normally. Now get dressed for the meeting," he said, hastily changing the subject.

A small frown played at her lips, but she got up and grumbled as she walked toward the bathroom. 

Draco let out a sigh that he'd been holding onto for a long time. After Granger was finished with her shower, he was quite ambitious of a cold one.

-*-

Hermione muttered under her breath as she undressed and quickly got into the shower. This time she let the water flow cold around her body, for she was in deep thought. There was nothing more that Hermione wanted to do than get revenge on Draco Malfoy, and help Rebecca. Tears were threatening to fill her eyes as she recalled Rebecca's memory of her parents dying at the hands of Draco Malfoy. Hermione had a connection with Rebecca- she hated them, hated how they treated mudbloods in such a dreadful, careless manner. She hated Draco Malfoy to the tip of his silver-strand hair down to his artistically characterized toes. She wanted him to die, suffer and she wanted to watch it come alive, as alive as it was when Ron died...

She shivered inwardly, the memory had been pushed away for so many years it seemed impossible to thicken her knowledge of it. It wasn't supposed to happen, she had killed her best friend. Of course, a normal person would cry, but Hermione had already cried her heart out nights after the death. Every single night, sob by sob. It was painful, it was cruelty - she wanted to slit her own throat - but she knew she had to live with it. It was God's punishment for her, it was to make her stronger.

It wasn't long before a bang at the door made her start. Draco's voice was yelling, "Hurry the hell up, Granger! Get your knickers on, I have to shower!"

Hermione sang loudly, pretending not to hear him. Soaping up every inch of her skin, she slowly rinsed and dried herself, reluctantly pulling the towel around her in a loose caress, she looked in the mirror. If she was going to kill Draco Malfoy, she was going to do it in style. Lowering the towel slightly, she made sure her cleavage glimmered, noticed. If there was one thing men like sex-crazed Draco couldn't resist, it was seduction.

She opened the door, and as she did, Draco said, "Oof!", clutching the back of his head. He had been obviously been waiting on the other end. He gave her a furiously annoyed glare but when he fully turned around, his mouth opened a bit. His eyes wandered to her chest for a few moments, then he cleared his throat, tugging at his collar.

"Um," he said wittily. "I...you done?"

"Yes," Hermione said, smiling at him. Making sure to brush past him bluntly, she wavered heavenly to her bedroom, congratulating herself for the accomplishment.

-*- 

Months had passed, and Rebecca and Hermione had sent owls to each other over the weeks. Careful not to lose contact, Hermione replied to every single letter. Draco was slowly breaking away, and Hermione knew it. At the morning, Draco would brush his teeth and Hermione made sure to walk in, wearing the attire of a sluttish nightgown she had bought just for the procedure. Of course, he was going crazy, and Hermione knew it. Every time she brushed against him, he would clench his fists, and every time she would bend down he would gape at her cleavage.

And then came the day - the day where Rebecca insisted she get him into bed. Hermione was prepared. She had found the most beautiful yet revealing dress she could find: a thin, see-through black gown with only two straps. It was simple, but rather lovely, with tiny white flowers imprinted on various places. To her joy, while she was modeling it in the mirror, Draco happened to come in from yet another meeting in which Hermione was not needed.

The gasp was clearly audible from his throat. He tried to hide it of course, telling her he needed to use the shower. But Hermione was growing impatient, so after she heard the water turn off, she opened the door and walked in.

"What're you -" he stopped speaking, eyeing her in disbelief. "Granger," he snarled at last. "What game are you playing?"

Be a ditz, Hermione told herself. Be someone else.

  
"I just wanted to use the bathroom, sorry. Why, do you not like me anymore?" she blinked innocently, placing a hand on his chest, her eyes pondering his lower area, which was covered in a towel. She placed fingers around it and pulled, loosening it - it dropped straight to the floor.

"We won't need that, now, will we?" she whispered, his hand on his stomach now, gently prodding forward...

He groaned, trying to shake his head. "Don't..."

She leaned closer, her hand finally reaching his length, pressing on it tightly. He made a raw noise, closing his eyes as her lips crushed against his.

"Don't..."

He grabbed her backside and prompted her to press against him. She did, with great delight. It wasn't so bad after all...after all, Draco Malfoy was entitled a Sex Expert in Hogwarts...and she would be there to experience it.

"...Stop..."

Hermione's hand drifted away from the spot, and he began to protest until she fell onto her knees, her head between his legs.

"What're you doing, Granger?" his eyes widened. He was finally going to see the side - the wild side, the rough side...

She didn't even care to answer, she merely began to start slowly. He tugged at her hair, trying to pull back her head, but with no avail did she stop.

-*-

Hermione woke with a start - a body was plastered heatedly against hers. She looked down, and to her relief - she saw she was merely in the naked embrace of Draco Malfoy. A smirk went over her face. After all the pain she had gone through of losing Ron; after all the son-of-a-bitch meetings with the Death Eaters - after all the strength she had earned but all the innocence she had lost, it would take to her pleasure to leave this kind of life - and take Draco's.

He had been the one to turn her evil, he had been the one to make her commit the first murder. The murder of her best friend. Tears were inwardly going down her cheeks, but she wiped them off. She had cried enough to last a lifetime. She was strong now. She was going to fight for her life - or die for it. It didn't matter anymore, life and death. All that mattered was getting Harry back to her side - all that mattered was to kill off every single one of the death eaters. All that mattered was fighting evil, and winning the war. All that mattered was acting on the vengeance she felt everyday, the sickness that awoke inside her like a stinging drought willing to take her mind.

Taking a hand to brush of some of the silver strands off of his face, she leaned over, whispering in his ear, "Don't worry. You'll get what you always deserved, Draco Malfoy."

-*-

__

Dear Rebecca,

I have succeeded. I did bed him at last. I will need more procedures to make him fall for me, of course, but I have no worries. I am willing to risk everything to get my life back. And if not my old one, a new one.

Sincerely yours,

Hermione Granger

-*-

Rebecca had a grim smile all through the day after the letter. She was lightheaded, hopeful. There was a sudden urge to kill Malfoy today, but she knew he hadn't fallen for her yet.

"What're you smirking about?" Cleavers snapped at her. "Get back to the client files, so we can see if Madruger can have a trial or not. C'mon, Becca. This isn't a job for games."

"Yes sir," she murmured bitterly, looking a the files with a look of distaste. She loved being an Auror - but the fact that although she was well respected, she still somehow managed to get the lower jobs - such as looking through trial files...it was rare that she actually got to go to the action herself, excluding the many encounters with Death Eaters, she never really caught more than one a year or so.

Shaking herself, she furiously reminded herself that in a few weeks, she would be able to repay the person that had her parent's blood on his hands. She would break the rules, letting Hermione Granger free, but they were partners in crime now. It was as if she had never formed a stronger bond with anyone - the fact that they had both lost someone special because of Malfoy was what made the connection between them.

And she wasn't going to break the connection. She was sure that if Malfoy died in Granger's hands, she would be able to owe the former Hogwarts Head Girl her life.

-*-

They dressed silently for the meeting, but Hermione knew there was an intensity that hung in the air, hovering between them. It was working. He wouldn't look at her, but every so often she could catch a blush creeping to his cheeks, or he was away in thought. About her. It had to be. She had done the best she could to offer the best services sexually. And he hadn't been either. This was mocking Hermione, but she refused to accept that she liked sleeping with him. After all, what would Rebecca say? This was just a job. A job that was going to earn her life back.

-*-

He had met her parents, been so polite to them. But how was Rebecca to know that years later of their content, loving relationship, that he would decieve her? How? Tears were welling up to her eyes, and she lowered her head, the teardrops falling and smudging the ink on the files. There was no way to revive her parents from death - there was no way. But there was a way to get closure. It was what she had been fighting, what her job was meant to torture people for ...it was murder. She and Hermione would become murderers. Hermione had never been a murderer from the start. Rebecca could see in her eyes that she had never wanted to do it, that she would rather die than kill Ron, her best friend. But there was no way to bring Ron back either. The painful feeling was numbing Rebecca's flesh. She didn't want to think about death anymore. She was going to commit it soon, or rather, help commit it, and she didn't want to think about anything for a while. Sighing, she forced herself the eye the trial reports, her eyes wandering over them, but her mind pondering over what was going to happen next.

-*-

He lowered his lips to hers. "Are you okay?" he whispered, soon pulling away. 

"Umm..." Hermione struggled to get up, but he locked her in his arms tightly. She let the feeling of warmth contempt her.

"Sorry about that - Nott's a jerk. I'll curse him...did the Crucio hurt you?"

"I am used to it, I shouldn't have loud-mouthed him...I think we should..."

He didn't let her speak. Instead, he grabbed her by the shoulders, kissing her like he had never done before. Softly, patiently, she responded to the kiss, a pang in her chest rising. Ron used to kiss just like this...and now he couldn't anymore. She ensued the kiss, shoving all thoughts out of her mind. It was quite a while before they pulled away from each other. 

"We should...get back," she breathed.

"I guess so," he said.

-*-

As the months passed by, Draco found himself changing abruptly. The fact that he had every intention of keeping a mudblood safe disgusted him - but whenever he tried to push away the feeling that rose in his chest whenever he saw her, or whenever she smiled, made any movement, he just couldn't. It was soothing him to wake up in the morning, her next to him, naked, wrapped in his arms. And sometimes he could've sworn she would look at him with a flash in her eyes - perhaps she felt the same way. It was a weakness, a phase he was going through, and he loathed it. But he couldn't help it. 

-*-Three Months Later-*-

__

Dear Becca.

He's broken. He's fallen head over heels. 

It's time. Our turn.

Love,

'Mione.


	6. Chapter Six

__

Burn

Rebecca smiled in triumph, folding the note away neatly in her pocket. She felt happy, something she hadn't been able to feel in years. Then, some sort of regret plunged into her stomach; her heart paced increasingly. She would become a murderer. The idea of it was so compelling, yet dangerous. It's more than revenge, Rebecca assured herself. It's closure. I have to kill him. I am going to kill the person I love.

__

"You - you evil little son of a bitch!" 

"Now, let's do this the muggle way. Kill them, Nott and Blaster!" 

"Isn't going to be fun, Rebecca, watching your father die? Your mudblood mother? Shame really. But the Dark Lord's orders always come first," he cackled.

"No!" Rebecca objected, trying to stand still. She looked away, and whimpered once more as she heard her mother's scream. Her father was speaking to her, but she did not hear as he yelled out also. Soon, she heard two bodies fall to the kitchen floor after a flash of green light, where they lay lifeless. She felt her heart wrench and she managed a smile

"You're going to pay. Someday some girl's going to break your heart. It won't be me, but I swear to God, you'll get what you deserve," she said, shaking her head.

She closed her eyes, taking deep breaths. _And he will_, she thought to herself. _He will get what he deserves._

-*-

"You look cute," Hermione noted, pulling her arms around his waist, giving him a quick kiss on his cheek.

He looked back at his reflection doubtfully. "I don't think so..."

"Black fits you, you know that," she said, sighing in exasperation. "They'll love it."

"You're quite in a cheerful mood this morning," he said, raising a suspicious eyebrow at her.

She grinned at him knowingly. "I am just...happy."

"Happy," he repeated.

"Yes, happy. Is that so hard to believe?" she asked, folding her arms over her chest stubbornly.

"Yes," Draco answered carelessley. "I better go owl them and say we're coming."

Hermione smiled at him, nodding after him as he exited.

__

"Hermione, don't do this," Ron had pleaded.

Hermione's eyes welled with tears. The pain was too unbearable. She felt herself ripping apart into shreds. Don't do it, don't, a tiny voice warned in the back of her mind. But her knees threatened to buckle underneath her, and all she could hear the persuading voice of Draco Malfoy saying, 'Do it, do it right now, to rid of the pain, the unholy pain...'

"Avada Kedrava!"

The flash of green light that murdered her own best friend...

"Oh, Draco, dear," she murmured mockingly, a murderous look washing over her face suddenly, the smile gone, replaced with a sneering smirk. "I am going to be very, very happy at the end of the night...when _you die_."

-*-

"Miss Granger," Narcissa Malfoy bowed to her.

"Hello, Mrs. Malfoy. Are you enjoying yourself?"

"Yes, very much. However, Lucius has once again has been foolish."

"How so?" she asked politely, glancing at Draco, who was now dancing, his arms wrapped around a very pretty girl. She felt her chest burn somehow, but she ignored it, meeting Narcissa's pondering gray eyes.

"He has tried once more to get the Muders into the inner-circle. It's foolish, it is. He had to put several memory charms on them just to make them forget what he said," Narcissa was saying.

Hermione nodded in agreement, sipping her drink with small satisfied gulps. "That's dreadful, Mrs. Malfoy."

"Oh, dear, don't call me that. Call me Narcissa. Mrs. Malfoy sounds so _old_," Narcissa waved her hand dismissively, her blonde-silver strands shaking as she did.

"And everyone knows _you're_ young," Hermione said sarcastically, but kept her voice down, so nobody but her could hear.

"Hey," drawled a voice. It was Draco, sliding an arm around her waist.

"Let's go somewhere," he prodded.

Without warning, Hermione splashed the glass of wine right in his face.

"What the hell?" he sputtered, drenching with red liquid.

"Don't hey me when you've been dancing with that senile whore," Hermione spat. Then she realized what she had just done. What was wrong with her? She wasn't supposed to be jealous - she didn't love him. Of course she didn't. This was ...this was just a play. Yes, that was it. She had to make him believe that she loved him so much that she was overprotective. But how come the jealousy still rose in her throat?

People were staring now, so Draco motioned Hermione over to an empty bedroom, where he cleaned his face with a corner of the bedsheet. Hermione watched him, bemused.

"What the fuck was that?" he yelled violently.

"I am sorry," she said casually. "But you should know not to ..."

"That girl. Was my cousin," Draco said, his eyes narrowing.

"Liar," Hermione said.

"It was. Selina Malfoy."

Hermione's face flushed. "Oh. I-I- didn't think..."

"That's right. You didn't think. Now you made a scene."

"Sorry," she mumbled.

He sighed. "Do you want to go?"

Her eyes lit up quickly. "Alright. Let's go."

"Fine." With his arms at his sides, he exited the bedroom, obviously waiting for her to follow.

This is it, she thought, taking a deep breathing, closing her eyes. A feeling arose in the pit of her stomach but she couldn't identify it. What was it? Whatever it was, it wasn't anything good. She put the glass on the bed, and followed Draco, her fingernails digging into her palms

-*-

He was already in bed when she caught up with him. He was turned over to the side so she couldn't see his expression, but she smiled timidly anyways, and sat on the edge of the bed.

"I am sorry," she prompted. _For what happened...and what I am about to do_, she thought silently.

"Alright," he retorted dully.

"Hey," Hermione said, her heart racing with guilt. "Want to play a little game?" she said slyly.

"What kind of game?"

Her smile grew wider.

-*-

"Hermione -" his voice came out muffled. His eyes were blinded by a single scarf that held tightly.

"Shh...I am going to do something to you..." she said in a sing-song voice.

"What kind of things?" he asked, playing along suggestively.

"Things you won't like." The voice did not belong to Hermione. He raised an eyebrow.

"Who else is there?" he called.

"Rebecca."

__

Rebecca. Rebecca. Rebecca. His mind could not clearly comprehend what was happening. His wrists were being plunged into something sharp and metal, his legs were being tied up by several ropes that were being bewitched to hold tight...what was happening?

Somebody's wand poked the scarf off, and he yelped aloud, but Rebecca's hand covered his mouth. Next to her was a smiling Hermione Granger.

-*-

"What the..."

"Don't scream, it'll be our little secret," Hermione hissed.

"What the fuck are you doing here?" he exclaimed to Rebecca. Rebecca was attired in black robes, her hair tied crisply in a bun that had wisps of auburn hair sprawled over her face.

"Draco, Draco, Draco," Rebecca repeated mockingly. "You are a little dumbass, aren't you? I can't believe I _ever_ loved you..."

"What's going on here?" he spat.

"What's going on here?" Hermione spoke at last, smirking at him. "You're going to get what you deserve, Draco Malfoy."

"But...but you can't do this! I - I ..."

"You what? Do you love her?" Rebecca said, nodding. "That's so sweet, Draco. Too bad it's too fucking late!"

She took the wand out of her robes, pointing at his chest. 

Hermione reached in Draco's pants pocket and got out his wand, pointing at his heart also.

He struggled to move, but he was in chains, and he looked up, his mouth parting.

"N-n-no," Draco whispered vehemently. "You can't! You can't!"

"Hermione, one, two, three?" Rebecca asked.

Hermione smiled back. "One, two..."

"Three!" they both chorused. He yelled.

"AVADA KEDRAVA!" Rebecca screamed with force, but the wand in Hermione's hand dropped to the ground, her eyes wide.

"No!" she suddenly screamed. _No, this is not happening...why aren't I happy? Why aren't I...no, I couldn't have been..._

Her heart froze for a few moments before it raced again. It seemed to take a century for him to fall. His lifeless body kneeled over as she continued screaming, Rebecca looking at her with a furious look on her face, as Hermione caught Draco right in her arms, crying.

"Hermione..." Rebecca said softly. "What are you doing? What's wrong? He's dead...you can be happy now."

Tears rolled themselves, stopping uncontrollably over her pale cheeks. "Happy," she croaked. "Yes, it's alright now..."

Rebecca was startled. She pulled an arm around her, her head over Hermione's shoulder. "No...tell me you didn't..."

"Yes," she merely responded. She studied his features. He had died with his eyes closed, a very rarity among the Killing Curse. His silver strands fell over his forehead, his lips set into a grim line. She could remember kissing him, touching him. The very evil person that had made her a murderer, that made her kill the most important person to her in the world.

And there he was. Her heart was shattering, looking at the person that had died right in her arms.

-*-

4:26 P.M., August 4th, 2003. 

-*-


End file.
